


Operation: S'Mores Party!

by gold_pen_leaps



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Family, Family Fluff, Fluff, Food, Gen, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-13 20:00:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28908987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gold_pen_leaps/pseuds/gold_pen_leaps
Summary: "I heard something about a camping trip?”“Change of plans,” Mabel said.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	Operation: S'Mores Party!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [InkFable](https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkFable/gifts), [ArtemisTheHuntress](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtemisTheHuntress/gifts).



> The prompts were "s'mores" and "campfire", so I felt like combining the two.

“…and that’s how we got twelve bags of marshmallows!” Mabel finished explaining.

“It’s around seven hundred and eighty marshmallows total,” said Dipper. “So we need to use them up.”

“Dude, when was the last time I had a marshmallow?”

“Oh, Soos, if you need to ask, it’s been too long!” Mabel said. “We should all go out camping in the woods.”

“Melody would love that. Hold on, I gotta tell her about this.” Soos exited the room.

Grunkle Stan frowned as Soos left the room. “No camping,” he said, and flipped to the next page of his magazine.

Mabel looked at him with puppy dog eyes. “Aww, Grunkle Stan! But how will Soos remember what marshmallows are like?”

“No camping! Too many whatchamacallits in those woods, and before you know it, there’ll be a feud over the marshmallows. We don’t have a tent anyway.”

…It wasn’t outside the realm of possibility.

“Okay, Mabel can work with this,” Mabel said to herself, optimistically. “Uhh…”

“How about a campfire just outside the Shack?” Dipper suggested. “It’s pretty well protected, and we don’t have to set up a tent.”

“Hmph.”

“You could charge money for each marshmallow?” Mabel said. “And each chocolate bar. And each graham cracker!”

“When’d graham crackers get involved?” Dipper said.

“Oh, you silly, we need them for s’mores, of course!”

“Deal,” Grunkle Stan said, setting down his magazine, “But you’re in charge of invitations and Dipper has to light the fire.”

“Deal,” Mabel said. They shook on it. Dipper crossed his arms and frowned, but he didn’t protest his campfire duties.

Soos and Melody entered the room. Melody said, “I heard something about a camping trip?”

“Change of plans,” Mabel said, “Operation: S’Mores Party is go!”

* * *

“Of course I can light this campfire,” Dipper said.

“Shack fire?” Soos pondered.

“That doesn’t sound safe,” Dipper said. "The Shack isn't on fire." He rapped his knuckles against a stick. One could never be too careful.

“The Shack counts as a camp!” Mabel said. “This whole backyard can be our camp!”

Grunkle Ford happened to hear what she said as he walked up. “It could be an encampment, a fortress away from the city,” he said. “It’d be a great campaign setting. Maybe an army could besiege it?”

Dipper grinned. “Oh, don’t let Grunkle Stan hear you say that. He’s already worried we’ll be ransomed by a pack of gnomes for the marshmallows.”

Everyone glanced to where Grunkle Stan was sitting on the porch, out of earshot. He was sharpening the end of a stick. It looked too big for toasting marshmallows.

“Anyway, whatever you call it, I can light a fire,” Dipper said. They all watched, silently, as he placed some paper shreds in a pile in the middle of the fire pit.

He took a lighter out of his vest and flicked it. The tinder caught fire, and Dipper tried to shield the tiny flame from the wind with his hands.

Eventually, Dipper fed the flame a small stick from the pile of sticks he had gathered. And then, another one. The fire was still alight.

“Are we allowed to talk now?” Soos whispered.

“Yeah, Soos, you can talk,” Dipper said. “But I have to gradually give it bigger and bigger sticks, until it’s ready for the actual logs.”

Soos nodded. “Like waiting for a baby to be able to accept solid foods.”

“Uh, yeah, kinda like that.”

* * *

“There! It’s undergoing the Maillard reaction. Now, place it on this cracker and chocolate we readied… Yes yes, the topping cracker. And now, the skewer… Perfect!” Ford beamed at Dipper. “That’s a perfect s’more.”

“Ugh,” Stan said, wrinkling his nose (even more), “If you enjoy it, that’s fine. But whatever you do, don’t let him do it for you. A man’s gotta be responsible for his own s’mores experience.”

“I made a marshmallow soldier man with graham cracker armor!” Mabel proclaimed, holding her creation aloft. “Down with the hegemony!”

“I support you, sweetie,” Stan said, and ate his perfectly-browned marshmallow straight off of the skewer.


End file.
